Love and the Lustful Prince
by SpoonyChan
Summary: As the years passed, Marluxia fell into despair and lost all hope of finding love. For who could ever learn to LOVE a…a LUSTtful Prince? Based off of Beauty and the Beast. MarDem. Yaoi, graphic lemon.
1. Prologue

A/N: Oh lawd. Beauty and Best, people. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST MARDEM. That's all I have to say.

…………………………………………..

Once upon a time, in a Land that Never Was, a young Prince lived in a shining castle deep in the woods beside a quaint village. Although he was rich and had everything one would desire – endless food, servants, entertainment, the Prince was lonesome and didn't know how to fill the hole in his heart.

One stormy night, a young, beautiful girl came to the castle, her hood pulled over her head, sopping wet with rain. The Prince answered the door, aggravated, asking, "What? What is it? What would anyone want at _this _hour of the night?"

The young girl recoiled, whimpering kindly in the voice fit for an angel, her blue orbs shining, "It's pouring outside, Sir. I wonder if I could stay in your lovely castle…just for the night. Please?"

The Prince smirked devilishly, leaning against the doorframe and asking, "Oh really? And what do I receive in return for your stay?"

The tiny girl shook her head. "I have nothing to give. I just ask for your hospitality. _Please_, sir. I'm so cold from the rain…" She shivered.

The Prince shook his head and laughed, bringing a hand to the girl's small chin. "I only ask for one thing, my dear – your body."

The girl's eyes flashed as she slapped the lustful Prince's hand away, levelly saying, "How dare you."

Her hood and cloak melted away, revealing her small body under a cream dress that nearly kissed her knees. Her feet hung barely from the ground. The Prince's eyes were wide – an _Enchantress_.

.

The Prince tried to apologize, but it was far too late, for she had seen that there was no love or kindness in his heart – only undying lust. And as punishment, she placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

Closing the door on the Enchantress huffily, the lustful Prince went back to his room inside his castle, placing the large, beautiful rose she had given him under a glass casing.

The Rose she had offered was an enchanted rose, which would bloom for many years if he could learn to love rather than lust another and earn their love in return. By the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to take the lovely Rose's place.

As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope.

For who could ever learn to _love_ a…a _lust_ful Prince?


	2. Demyx

A/N: Welll…this is pretty much based completely off an RP my friend Arxaith and I did, she being Demyx and Larxene in this chapter and me being, well, everyone else It's also, evidently, based A LOT off of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. A crossover of Beauty and the Beast and Kingdom Hearts. Fun. It's really cute and full of crack so I hope you guys like xD It's really easy to write.

…………………………………………………….

In a little town, a quiet village, it was a day like every one before. The little town was full of little people, waking up to the morning to greet each other jovially. The baker passed down the streets with his tray filled with some old bread and rolls to sell…like always. Every morning was the same since the morning Vexen and his nephew Demyx moved to the poor provincial town.

Demyx was a young, handsome boy with goldenly tanned skin. His hair was styled into a unique way – a Mohawk mixed with a mullet. The hair of the Mohawk was fluffy and lighter than the rest of his cut, ending brilliantly at his shoulders. He sat on his oaken floors, tuning his azure sitar. Smiling to himself, he took in a breath, moving a finger down to strum, when –

"Demmmmy~! Ohhhhh Demmmmy!"

Demyx fastened his eyes shut at the raucous sound against his wooden door. Constant pounding and rapping mixed in with that burly voice. He groaned, upturning his brow as he held the sitar up to himself for protection.

"C'mon! Open up, will ya?"

There was a definite sternness in the man's voice, like a husky growl. Demyx shook his head rapidly as if the man on the other side could see.

"Nu-uh! The last time I let you in, you pinned me against the wall!"

"Pssshhh…" The older man hissed, "As if, Demy. That was just a…manly 'WOO I'm glad to you' hug. Now will you let me in?"

Demyx disregarded the man's pitiful pleas as he took a gander at the old, makeshift grandfather clock his uncle had made in the corner. The gears were turning squeakily, the pendulum made from a stick with a bag of sand attached at the end by string, ticking in its old-fashioned way. He looked back down to the ground in front of him and realized how empty it was, starting.

"N'oooh, I need to go out and get more sheet music anyway…"

He said this to himself more than to the man outside, turning the knob resignedly to see Xigbar, dressed in his usual, flashy attire for a normal resident of their tiny little town. He wore an eye path over his right eye and bore a battle scar on his left cheek that he always had a different story for. Demyx figured that it was probably the result of a stupid mistake of his, the man being the klutz that he was. His hair was streaked with white as it was brought back into a long ponytail. Several people regarded man as "handsome" – even Xigbar himself. Demyx thought he was rather disgusting.

He smiled a sharp-toothed grin, reaching out to touch Demyx on the shoulder. The younger boy intervened with, "Just leave me alone, Xiggy. Please."

Xigbar sighed, hunching his shoulders forward in surrender. "Fiiiine, fine…" He placed a rugged hand softy up to his forehead to brush little wisps of hair away, kissing him softly on the forehead. "Have fun with your…music…playing…"

The boy smiled worriedly, unconsciously bringing a hand over his forehead to brush the small traces of spit away. "Thanks…" he breathed, heading down the steps, down the path as he played his sitar, improvising a small song as he passed the townspeople by.

"Good morning, Demyx." an aged man with long, yellow hair complete with beard and mustache greeted.

"'Morning, Ansem." Demyx greeted back with a warm smile, continuing to strum his sitar softly.

"Where are you off to?"

"Aerith's music store, of course. I've had this song in my head for the longest time. I just need to get it down. It's a love song about a boy who – "

"That's very nice, Demyx," Ansem dismissed as his eyes wandered off in a different direction. "Xehanort! The baguettes! Hurry up!"

Demyx shrugged as Ansem headed off in the opposite direction toward his young, silver-haired pupil, Xehanort.

Demyx was a strange boy, no question. He was always dazed, distracted, and he never really fit in with other people. He fit himself perfectly on his own cloud, strumming and singing away at his guitar as he attracted stares and murmurs from all the townspeople.

The people on the streets fascinated Demyx greatly. That must've been why he sang of them so often. They always asked the same questions to one another morning after morning. How's your family? How's your wife? There was even always a crazy woman crying that she needed six eggs to feed her family of who knows how many children, her husband protesting that it was always too expensive.

Demyx shook his head as he escaped behind the swinging doors to Aerith's music store. _There must be more to this provincial life._

"Good morning, Demyx." Aerith's voice was kind and soothing, along with her flawless face and peaceful stance. Her store always smelled of delicious flowers and new paper. "What would you like today?"

"Um…" the boy hesitated, biting at the tip of his forefinger, "I just need a book of blank sheet music please. I'm all out and I have an idea."

Aerith beamed at him, her beautiful green eyes shining as brightly as her intricate earrings. "Of course!" she laughed, "Aren't we creative today." Handing him a violet book from a high shelf, she softly spoke, "Here you are."

Flipping through the blank trails of soon-to-be music, Demyx cheered, "Thanks Aerith! How much?"

"Just two-hundred munny."

Her smile faded as Demyx squealed as if thunder struck, checking his pockets and counting over and over. "I only have one-eighty." Sighing, he pocketed the money and mumbled, "Oh, well. I"ll see you tomorrow after I play for people and get the rest."

He spun around, Aerith frowning. Shaking her head so her earrings jingled, she cried, "No, no, don't leave yet! I'll cut the price in half – just for you, Demyx. A special discount for a special customer."

"OMIGOSH!" Demyx cheered, spinning around with eyes wide. "Thanks! Here you go. Thank you _so_ much!"

Aerith grinned down at the dirty coins in her hand. "Don't worry about it. Have a nice day!"

The musician whispered a small, "Yayyy" to himself as he hitched up his sitar, heading out the door, and telling it, "C'mon, Sasha. We've got some work to do!"

"Heyyy there, Demy."

Demyx jumped nearly three feet in the air at the same voice he had heard that morning, holding Sasha closely to his chest. "Don't _scare _me like that Xiggy! My heart, like, stopped…"

The corner of the old man's mouth crooked up, smirking. In mock sympathy, he cooed, "Awww, I'm sorry! Here, want me to start it up again?"

And with that, his gnarled hand captured Demyx in the ribcage, dipping him as he brought him into a face-sucking kiss. The boy's eyes widened as he pushed the man's exposed, hairy chest away from him.

"Xigbar! Don't do that!" he whined, tears welling in his eyes from embarrassment. Xigbar wasn't threatened. He came closer, putting a hand in the center of Demyx's chest.

"Why not? Your heart's beating again, isn't it?"

Pushing him away for the umpteenth time, Demyx tried to repress a snivel. "Xiggy…I told you I don't like you like that. I'm sorry. There're lots of people in the city that would like you though. You're funny!" He ended the remark with a nice smile. Xigbar shook his head.

"Heh, well…you know you're the only one for me. You're the guy of my dreams, kiddo."

Demyx stepped a foot back, shaking his head. "I don't know who my guy is. I haven't met him yet. I'll know when I see him though. He'll probably take my breath away and we'll dance all night long and he'll say I love you like a zillion times!"

The boy seemed to be talking to himself as his eyes glazed over, staring off into space and into his dream world. Xigbar waved a hand in front of his face, sighing when receiving no reaction.

"Fine…"

He stumbled off to the entrance of the saloon, his shoulders hunched. Demyx watched him rather forlornly until he disappeared around the corner.

"Geez. Way to reel him in."

Xigbar looked up at the feminine voice, seeing the familiar face of Larxene, her back up against the alley wall, her arms crossed. Her face was cross, her eyes a shocking green, and her hair an even more shocking lemon-yellow.

"How can he just…not accept me like that?" Xigbar mumbled to himself in disbelief, flexing his muscles, "Am I not the most handsome guy in the entire village? As if."

Larxene rolled her eyes. "You _suuuure _are. Jesus Christ, why don't you just rape the kid and get it over with? Hm?"

Xigbar jumped, shocked. "Geez, I'm not _that _desperate. Gimme a break, Larxene. He's just a kid after all." Leaning up against the parallel wall, he looked down to his buckled shoes and sighed once again. "If the time arises, however, I may just do that to satisfy my…'manly needs'. Never know, do ya?"

Larxene tickled the underside of Xigbar's chin, causing him to look up with a raised brow. "You _know_ you want to. It would be fun as fuck to watch. Little Demy…screaming…_begging_ for more. Now doesn't that sound nice?"

Xigbar tried to hide the hungry light in his eyes as he shook his head. "Sure, Larx. Wonderful."

"Heheh, anyway…want to go to the saloon? You usually do when Demy blows you off."

Xigbar shrugged, lifting himself from his dark place on the wall. "Why not? Maybe I'll get drunk enough to forget this time."

Larxene laughed her shrill, high-pitched laugh. Xigbar tried to resist the urge to cover his ears. "Sounds like fun."

They walked out into the sunlight, the healing sound of Demyx's voice intermingling with the mystic sounds of his sitar. Xigbar couldn't help but stare as he played for the children dancing around him and gawking.

"_Little town_

_It's a quiet village_

_Ev'ry day_

_Like the one before_

_Little town_

_Full of little people_

_Waking up to say…"_

Xigbar smiled to himself as the children all said "Bonjour!" in a rhythmic sequence. Larxene coughed and he looked at her, keeping one ear on Demyx's song.

"Looks like your boy is having fun playing for people."

Xigbar shook his head, "Yeah, yeah…"

Grasping his arm with both her talons, Larxene ushered, "Come on," yelling to her comrades beyond the swinging doors, "_Hey guys! Beer all around!_"


	3. Xigbar

"Who does he think he is!?" Xigbar drawled after his second draft of beer. He wasn't the best at holding his liquor. "That boy has tangled with the wrong man!"

"Damn right." Larxene mumbled, sipping her wine rather importantly.

"No one says 'no' to Xigbar!" He held his head in his hand, eyes clouding from the alcohol. "Dismissed! Rejected! Publicly _humiliated_! Why, it's more than I could bare."

Larxene grinned at the strange choice of words Xigbar seemed to be choosing out of his drunken stupor, regarding the bartender and asking, "More beer?"

"What for?" Xigbar growled, clapping his emptied mug down on the counter. "Nothing helps. I'm disgraced."

Larxene snorted. _Disgraced_? The man was definitely drunk. Xigbar was only this eloquent when intoxicated. "Who, _you_? _Never_! Xigbar, you've gotta pull yourself together."

Even though a fluent, drunk Xigbar was amusing, it disturbed Larxene to see him in that way. Ever since that…_kid_ moved into town, he'd been obsessing over him. There were plenty of supple men and women that fell head over heels for him, but he just wouldn't accept their pleas. It was always "_Demyx_ this" and "_Demyx _that". Larxene wondered what he really saw in the boy.

Everyone in the town was awed and inspired by the great Xigbar – everyone's favorite guy. After all, there was no man in town half as manly. He was a pure paragon, from his lame combination of "battle scars" (if only they knew the _real _stories that Larxene knew) to his clunky boots. Everyone in town wanted to _be _him.

"That's it," Xigbar grumbled, stumbling off his barstool, "That boy will be the one I marry. He's the boy of my dreams."

Larxene nearly shattered the glass she was holding by the force of which she put it down. "You're drunk."

"You're sexy."

Larxene laughed. "You're _gay_."

"And what if I am?" Xigbar dismissed, waving his hand around in the air drunkenly, "Strike up the band. I'm getting married tonight."

"The…the _band_?"

"To play the wedding march, of course."

"B-but…" Larxene hesitated, "It's getting dark, and – "

The woman couldn't think of any other excuses. She surrendered and gathered the town band members, following Xigbar out the swinging doors.

After all, _no one_ said no to Xigbar.

…………………………………………………………

"Uncle Vexennnn! I'm home!"

Demyx carefully pulled the strap of his sitar over his head, placing the delicate instrument in the corner carefully as he looked around for his uncle, hearing a call from the basement.

"I'm in the lab!"

"Ohhh. Okay!" Demyx called back down, approaching the rickety stairs that led to the darkness below. "How's the big invention for the fair going?"

"Good. I gave it a test run earlier. Worked like a charm."

Demyx continued to hesitantly climb down the stairs, trying to catch a glimpse of his working Uncle as the stair beneath his foot creaked. "Can I see it?"

Vexen emerged, wearing a lab coat covered in black soot along with his goggle-bearing face. He removed the goggles with a loose, latex glove, peering at Demyx through emerald pinpricks in the sea of black. "Sure. Come around here for a second."

Demyx followed the back of Vexen's platinum blonde head as opposed to the temporarily black front, laying his eyes on a large brass machine. It looked rather like a carriage with rivets on the wheels, a steel bucket of coals fixated at the rear, still glowing a fluorescent orange. Vexen climbed into the driver's seat, ushering Demyx to climb into the passenger. The boy did so, hoisting himself into the high-level vehicle.

"Just turn this knob here, put this lever forward here, annndd…" The bucket of coals sputtered a bit as Vexen waited in anticipation. The carriage jolted forward once, causing Demyx to squeak. Vexen laughed.

"You see? Award-winning material – a coal-powered carriage."

Demyx smiled as he followed his uncle's suit and hopped back onto the dusty stone floors. "Y'think it'll win the contest?"

"Most definitely!" he pointed a gloved finger in the air, "I've been working on it for weeks." The scientist twitched a bit as he interlaced his fingers and changed the subject with, "It's getting late! I'd better get going. There's a stew cooking over the fire if you get hungry. I'll see you tomorrow, Demyx."

Demyx blinked as his uncle hurriedly covered his invention with a large tarp, inspecting himself over quickly, disregarding the soot and smoky smell.

"Oh, well, um…" Demyx hesitated, "Thanks, Uncle Vexen! Good luck!"

And he went back upstairs to eat his stew.

…………………………………..

Vexen was laughing stock of the town. He had the visage of a crazy inventor and everyone made an effort to stay away from his workshop, which often spurted smoke, and not just from the chimney.

Not only was he a nutcase, but he also wasn't exactly the fairest of them all. His years of brooding over math equations and measurements wore him down into somewhat of a bag of scrawny bones, being pale and often sickly looking, and his eyes often bloodshot. Everyone wondered how a sickly man like him could be related to a beautiful boy like Demyx.

Xigbar didn't care though. Larxene would be surprised if he even _knew _the two were related. As they passed him in the street, the band looked up to the scientist's strange contraption of a machine, pointing fingers and laughing. Xigbar himself snorted a bit as he reached the front door of Demyx's house, bringing himself up and knocking, checking his breath quickly.

"Who is it?" Demyx called from the kitchen.

"Your future husbaaaannnnndd~" Xigbar cooed, laying his arm against the door. There was a long pause before Demyx actually replied.

"N'oooooh, not this again, Xiggy."

Larxene could hear the kid's frown dripping in his voice as his footsteps grew closer and the door swung inward. Xigbar fell clumsily over onto his chest and Demyx gasped, throwing the man off with a force that no one knew he had. The man with the eye patch tumbled backward down the stairs, falling rump first into a puddle of mud. Larxene snorted, waving her hand to strike up the band in an instant. The wedding march played in full swing and Xigbar's burning, yellow eyes could be seen peering through the mud angrily at the woman. She merely laughed her screeching, annoying laugh.

Xigbar stood up, mud dripping off him as he stumbled over to the shaking Larxene, raised an arm, and –

_WHAP._

-- brought it heavily upon her cheek, sending her down to the ground. The whole band stopped almost instantly, gasping in succession. Demyx's eyes widened in fright. He instantly closed the door on the scene, Xigbar quickly turning his head toward the slamming noise.

"See what you did?" Xigbar snarled at the woman holding her cheek on the ground. "_See what you did_!? He'll _never_ marry me now that you did such a thing! Thanks a lot, sonnuva bitch…"

One rather stout member seemed rather confused. He furrowed his brow and piped up, "But…Larx is a girl."

"What the fuck ever."

With that, Xigbar left the scene, returning home to take a bath.

No one said no to Xigbar. No one but Demyx. That must've been what Xigbar liked about the kid…


	4. The Castle

A/N: Sorry D: Short chapter. They're all pretty short though. Tryin' to get that story book kinda feelin' hur. Oh, and RP wise, Arxaith was Demyx from the part in the forest on in this chapter. She was also Axel. I was Zexion.

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The night was getting darker than it already was, and Demyx wasn't feeling good. In between the scene that he had recently witnessed and the deepening night, he didn't feel good. He never liked Xigbar, but he had no idea that he could be so cruel, even if it was to another person he didn't really like as well.

It was nearing midnight, and Demyx thought it would be a good idea to go to sleep, puckering his lips to blow the candle out, when he heard a strangled whinny from outside his door. Gasping, he opened said door to come face to face with his own beautiful, black horse.

"Lyric!" he whispered, seeing the spooked look swimming in the creature's eyes. "What's the matter, girl? Where's Uncle--?"

_Uncle Vexen_!

Uncle Vexen had taken Lyric along with him to the fair across town as a guide for his coal-powered carriage, because, as brilliant as the device was, it couldn't hold up for that long a trip.

Demyx ran his hand along the horse's spine, noticing numerous gashes along her body. They were bites and scratch marks, some minor ones from tree branches, but the others obviously made from wolves. What grieved Demyx most was the absence of Uncle Vexen and his coal-powered carriage. Not even a sliver of evidence that the two existed.

"Calm down, girl, calm down…" Demyx hushed the quivering horse with a tender stroke of the nuzzle, "It's gonna be all right. I'm sure Uncle Vexy is okay…"

Demyx often wondered why he always had to say that when things obviously _weren't_ okay.

Leading the limping horse back into her stable, Demyx pulled on his ebony hood, fastening the tassels around his neck. Whispering a small prayer before leaving his home, he headed out across town and into the forest.

The forest held a heavy mist over it, and the boy could hear the distant howl of a wolf somewhere in the near distance. He held his hands to his chest, shivering as a cold wind brought up his hood. The greens and blues of the trees intimidated him…not to mention the constant rustling of leaves. There was no telling if it was the wind or a passing creature.

"N'oooh…" he whined to himself, rubbing his arms to stay warm, "It's so cooold…Uncle Vexy, where are you?"

It seemed as soon as Demyx said this, he began to notice signs of wolves. It had been wolves that attacked Lyric, no doubt, _and_ Vexen. Demyx whimpered at the thought.

The dirt and grass was loose everywhere, bush branches broken and stirred. Demyx furrowed his eyebrows at them and began to follow where they led, scrutinizing the ground carefully for the same signs.

Sure enough, the signs led him to believe the moon had disappeared after a while. A gigantic shadow had cast over him and he was forced to look up and see what had hidden his light.

A giant castle constructed of pure malachite and jet-black stone towered above him, swimming in a see of ivy that crept up the walls like snakes. Gargoyles perched high up on the outer walls, mouths gaping and staring down on the insignificant world beneath them. Demyx was instantly captured by its beauty, looking up at it for he didn't know how long. He only knew that it began to rain once a cold droplet of water met his nose and thunder clapped overhead. Yelping, he scurried to the castle doors, knocking repetitiously until the door seemed to open on its own accord. Without thinking, he slipped into the castle's safe domain, feeling wind push against him as the doors clanked closed behind him.

All was silent. Demyx couldn't even hear the thunder rolling outside or the rain beating on the roof. Looking up, the boy concluded that it was because the roof was too high. He couldn't even see it through the dark candlelight.

"Helloooo…?" Demyx asked softly as he removed his hood, "Can someone help me please? I'm looking for my Uncle…"

His voice echoed spookily through the halls and rooms and foyer of the castle. He hunched at the silence that followed, moaning sadly in his throat. Nonetheless, he stepped forward through the castle, searching around through the darkness, letting his eyes adjust.

He heard something far to his right – a definite, steady clinking noise. _Clink, clink, clink, clink…_Then intertwined with it came a rapid _clunkclunkclunkclunk_. Demyx looked in the direction where the noises were getting louder, holding himself to prepare for whatever was to happen. He steadily began to hear a voice – a cool, whispering, but obviously _angry_ voice.

"H-hello? I can hear you, I just can't see you."

The clinking and clunking stopped abruptly and Demyx saw a light appear at the corner of his eye. He turned his head toward it, a stand holding three candles perched up perfectly on the floor as if it had been set there. Cocking his head, Demyx moved toward it, studying it with wary eyes. Upon closer observation, he found that the main candle at the center had strange, teardrop markings side by side at the front and a slab of layered wax at the back of it colored a deep red as opposed to the main cream color covering the rest of the candles.

"Why, _bon-jour _Sexy!"

Demyx cried out in utter surprise, falling backward onto his haunches. Was he delusional? Had that candlestick just…just _magically_ gained eyes and a mouth?

All he could do was stare for a moment, then he finally said, "D-did you just talk?"

The candleholder laughed, shaking its center-candle head and placing its left little candle on its "hip". "Uh…_yeah_? Name's Axel." He held out his rightmost candlestick in gesture for a handshake, looked at it, then withdrew it as if nothing happened. "Wow, we haven't had a guest in ages! Zexion! You're being rude!"

Demyx looked to the right where Axel the candlestick was looking, a small clock walking into his yellow light on its stubby legs, wringing its wooden nubs of hands. The clock glowered at the candle with its one visible eye. Demyx thought to himself why a clock would have a wooden decoration carved over half its face. You'd only be able to tell time half the day.

"I'm a _clock_," the clock said angrily to Axel, "You're a _candle. _How the _hell _am I being rude by…_trying _not to talk?"

"'Cause the kid here needs help." Axel replied indifferently, gesturing toward Demyx. "Why else would be just _waltz _in here? And so _what _if we're two pieces of generally inanimate objects – _belieeeeve_ in the magic, Zexy! Anything is possible…obviously."

Demyx, still taken aback that he was seeing a clock and a candle argue over him, finally found his voice again. "S-So…since you guys can talk and see and everything…can you…tell me where my Uncle is?

"Uncle?" Zexion the clock asked, looking slightly confused.

"We haven't seen anyone lately." Axel said with a shrug.

"Yes we _have_. Remember the old man the Master brought in only a moment ago?"

"Ohhhh yeah!" Axel laughed, "Guy's in for a rough night!"

Demyx's eyes widened in shock. "Did he have long, blonde hair?"

"Eh, more like…black." Axel told him.

"He was covered in soot." Zexion added.

"That was _definitely_ him!" Demyx cried out, standing up and stretching out his knees. "W-wait…whaddya mean 'he's in for a rough night'?"

"We…don't want to scar you for life, Demyx." Zexion hesitated.

"He's upstairs, chained to a bed." Axel snorted, causing Zexion to grumble angrily. "A Master has to have a Pet."

Demyx squealed, spinning around and looking for whatever passageway would lead to the upstairs and his uncle. He found them to his left, dashing toward and up them, winding around them wildly. Axel watched him with wide eyes.

"…shit." He cursed quietly to himself.


	5. The Prince

A/N: Uuuuggghhhh…these chapters just keep getting shorter! I'm sorry about that, but I like having the chapters end like this for some reason. Shorter chapters make for a shorter fanfiction. I mean…it's supposed to be like this. STORYBOOKY. At least…that's my excuse…

………………………………………..

"Sooo, you thought you could come into my forest and have me completely disregard you, hm? You thought wrong."

"I-I'm sorry, Sir. Please forgive me! I-I didn't mean to trespass, I was only –"

"_Silence_!"

The Prince brought his whip down in a graceful motion, flicking the man's fragile skin right at the shoulder. Vexen cried out in pain, every previous marking from the whip aching along with the fresh one. Blood seeped from several parts on his naked body.

The Prince was a beautiful man on the outside, but had a disgusting heart, if any heart at all. His hair consisted of soft, fluffy layers of tickle-me pink and his eyes were a gentle royal blue. His skin was fair and his body was tall and firm, and his motions, although cruel with his bloodied whip, were fluid and refined.

He started once the door burst open and Demyx came in, shouting in a panic, "_Uncle Vex…en?_"

The sight of his Uncle's bare body caught him completely off guard, and once again he could only stare. The scientist, still slightly covered in soot from his previous work, looked up slowly and shakily, his eyes widening once he recognized his nephew.

"Another one?" The Master asked himself indifferently.

"Demyx, leave this place!" Vexen yelled harshly. "Don't let happen to you what happened to – !"

The salmon-haired Prince cracked his whip in the air, causing Demyx to jump and Vexen to quiet themselves. Vexen actually shrieked, sending himself into a spell of unconsciousness.

"L-let him go…_please_." Demyx cried with a quivering lip.

The Prince smiled, cocking his head slightly. "Or…?"

"…I said _please_?"

Tears were pooling in the musician's eyes. The Prince found great entertainment in this, smirking even more than he was before. "What will I receive in return?"

Demyx looked from his naked uncle, sprawled on the bed with chains around his wrists, from the tall man staring down at him, grinning sinisterly. He shook his head, looking down at his muddy shoes.

"I'll be your…your…pet."

The Prince's eyes flashed. "Say again?"

"I'll be your pet." Tears were running down his cheeks as he picked his head up. "Just let him go…"

The Prince's eyes glinted even more. "You'd be willing to do that for your Uncle? Very well then…On one condition, _mon chou_."

Demyx's eyes rejoined with the ground. "Name it."

"You must promise to stay with me forever."

The musician was shaking, burying his face into his hands. He lifted his eyes from them momentarily, still making sure not to lock eyes with the beast of a man. "You have my word."

"It's done then."

The Prince kept his malicious smirk, the enchanted cuffs unlocking at the snap of his fingers. He grasped the leash he had previously circled around the scientist's neck and dragged him forward, tossing him on top of a sofa.

"Take him outside – to the contraption he came here with," he growled. The sofa nodded, however a sofa would nod, and trampled down the winding staircase as Demyx sank to his knees, watching his unconscious uncle bob lifelessly on the cushions of the couch.

"D-don't I even get to say good bye?"

"He is no longer of any concern to you," The Prince told him, grasping him firmly around the forearm, picking him up gently. "You're mine now."

"B…but, no!" Demyx cried, trying to struggle away, but the Prince was too strong. He threw him against the headboard, the chains chinking as they morphed around the boy's tanned wrists. Pink flecks of hair melded with blonde as the Prince pressed his forehead against the adolescent's.

"A promise _is _a promise, _mon chou_."

Demyx didn't want to know what that meant. Whatever it was, he didn't like it.

Just then, Zexion the clock and Axel the candle entered the room, observing the scene before them. The Prince didn't seem to notice until Zexion coughed rather obviously, giving the pink-haired man a stern glare. His malicious intent to have sexual intercourse with Demyx seemed to melt instantly. He pushed himself off the boy, looking away from him.

"I'll have my servants escort you to your room." His voice was cold – devoid of emotion.

"But what about -- ?"

"Do you _want _to stay in here with me?"

The look the Prince gave him was shocking. It said so many things, so many _painful_ things that Demyx felt his heart stop, and yet pound ever faster. His blue eyes simply _screamed_ "help", as malicious and cruel the glare seemed to be. Demyx never forgot that one simple shine in his eye.

"No…" Demyx shook his head.

"Then go."

The chains clinked to life once more, opening up to free Demyx's straining wrists. He lifted himself from the bed, giving the man one last curious look before following the duo forlornly out of the room.

_Forever_…_I have to stay here forever…_


	6. The Plan

The Prince grabbed hold of Axel's torso with a single hand, lifting him up to the dimly lit halls as he escorted Demyx himself to his room. The only noise that surrounded them was the echoing call of their footsteps and the sounds of the musician stifling his sniffles.

Axel glanced back at the boy when he noticed the sudden silence of him. He was lagging behind, looking around at the immensity of the castle. He started and ran back up to catch up with the Prince before he noticed his absence.

"Say something…" Axel grumbled impatiently in the Prince's ear. The Prince screwed up his face and turned around to face the musician.

"What's you're name--?"

"Demyx."

The boy said it so quickly that the Prince wondered if he had been expecting it. "Marluxia."

"Huh?"

"My _name_."

Axel hissed at Marluxia, hinting that he was being too fierce. He had to bring it down if he were to have a chance.

"I…hope you like it here." Marluxia tried. Demyx didn't look at him. Marluxia gritted his teeth. "You're allowed anywhere in the castle…_except_ the West Wing."

"What's in the West Wi--?"

"_It's forbidden_."

The sound of their footsteps faded into the world above them, replaced with Marluxia's echoing snarl. Demyx felt his heart pace quicken at the livid look in his blue eyes. He turned away and they continued to walk, Demyx shivering.

They stopped next to a door that Marluxia and stood aside from, allowing Demyx to enter. "You will be staying here for the night."

Axel whispered hurriedly to the Prince as the mulleted boy walked past them, "Dinner! Invite him to dinner!"

"You will…join me for dinner." Marluxia mumbled. He then added in a growl, "That's not a request!", slamming the door for effect.

As soon as the clanging echo completed it's chain through the castle, Demyx broke down the dam, erupting in wails and quivering breaths as he flopped his face over the first surface he could find – the bed. The soft linen dampened under the moisture as he nuzzled the sheets, crying for his Uncle pitifully over and over.

"Uncle…Uncle…_help…_"

…………………..

"_Hellpppp_!" A hoarse cry arng out as a barrage of banging abused the wooden door. "Xigbar, help! My nephew's been captured! _Demyx has been captured_!"

Xigbar, immensely agitated for he was just about to go to sleep, stripped his covers off of himself and swung open the door, making an unnecessary din on his way there.

"Whaddya want, old man?" he grumbled, rubbing his empty eye socket, uneyepatched for once. This morbid fact didn't stop Vexen from grabbing hold of the man's shoulders and bringing him close.

"My nephew, Demyx, the one you've loved all this time. He's been captured by a hideous beast, locked in the dungeon to starve!"

"'Hideous beast'?" Xigbar laughed, brushing the older man's hands off of him rather disgustedly.

"Well, not exactly…" Vexen corrected himself, bringing his tattered coat up with a shrug, "He's…a rather _dashing _prince, but he's _evil_, malevolent, and he has a whip! A-and…he's part plant!"

Xigbar snorted, leaning against the doorframe in amused interest. "Part plant, huh?"

"I-it sounds ridiculous, but I saw it! Rose vines covered in thorns shot out of his arms!"

"He, thanks a lot old man, but I don't have time for your crazy stories…"

Vexen's eyes widened in fear. "B-but…my nephew's in grave danger!"

"Mmmmhm," Xigbar grabbed the mane by the shoulder and pushed him off his steps, causing him to fall backward. "Jus a bad dream, that's all. Go crying to your mommy about it. I'm sure she'll let you cuddle up beside her…if you make like Benjamin Button or…something. Crazy old Vexen…"

Vexen felt his bones creak as he stood himself back up, whivering from the cold rain still lingering in his clothes. He mumbled softly to himself, "I guess…I'll just have to rescue Demyx myself…" and headed off toward the forest once again.

………………………

"Crazy old Vexen, eh?" Xigbar muttered to himself, rubbing his stubble and pacing. "Crazy old Vexen…"

"He's crazy alright…" a voice agreed from the antlered armchair causing Xigbar to jump.

"Larxene! What're you doing here?"

"Eavesdropping." The woman lifted herself from the chair, sipping at a glass of water she stole from the kitchen.

"Well I've been thinking…" Xigbar continued almost to himself, pacing.

"A dangerous pastime for you."

"Shut it, Larx." She did indeed shut it. "Demyx cares about his uncle and would do anything for him, but his sanity's only so-so."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that the only way to get Demyx to marry me is through his uncle."

Larxene cocked an eyebrow, "What're you gonna do – kill Vexen?"

Xigbar laughed, a pointed grin on his face. "If I have to."


	7. The Teapot

There was a persistent knocking at the base of the door – more like clinking of china against wood. After about a minute of the clinking, a voice followed, bellowing, "Oi! Are you going to open the door or are you just going to mope around all day?"

Demyx cocked his head. It…wasn't Marluxia. This person's voice had a British accent. Hesitantly, he opened the door, immediately greeted by a, "Thank you, Love," near his feet. Stooping down on his knees after closing the door, Demyx realized what the character was.

"You're a…teapot!" Demyx almost laughed as the pot poured a steaming liquid from its nose into a smaller, chipped teacup.

"Kind of you to notice," The teapot remarked, tipping up straight once again. "I thought you'd fancy a cup of tea to calm your nerves before dinner."

Demyx smiled feebly. "Thanks, but…I don't like tea."

"Don't like _tea_!?" the teapot parroted as if the boy had just insulted his creater, "but this isn't just _any _tea, Love, it's…well, by the looks of Sora, it's not tea – it's rum."

"Sora…?" Demyx questioned, eyeing the small teacup that seemed to sway back and forth, its contents sloshing around dangerously. It did a little twirl and Demyx saw that it too had a face – though slightly cross-eyed at that moment – of brilliant blue eyes and a few bits of the top of the cup were chipped, the absence of the shards of China almost acting like bangs for him.

"Woooo…!" the teacup known as Sora hiccupped wearily, "Top of the mornin' to ya, Luxord!"

Luxord sighed. "The poor boy can't hold an ounce of liquor. Literally. Well, Lexaeus…" -- Demyx looked behind him to see who – or what – the teapot was talking to, finding only a blank wardrobe – "better get the boy ready for dinner. The Master will expect him in something _ravishing_ I assume."

Before Demyx could question, Luxord, his several earrings – or rather, _handle_rings – jingling, escaped back into the hallway, the door closing deafeningly after Sora twirled out.

"You're not going, are you?"

Demyx jumped, spinning around to look at the wardrobe. The top of it had a face then, the simple patterns above its eyes making the illusion of burnt orange hair for him.

"No…I'm not." Musician replied with a small hint of defiance in his voice. He sat on the bed, crossing his arms.

"I know he seems scary…" the wardrobe inched forward, but he's really a…nice guy once you get to know him.

Lexaues the wardrobe, Demyx learned rather quickly, was a horrible liar. He looked at the hopeful wardrobe, shaking his head and sighing.

The door squeaked open, Luxord having failed to close it properly, and Zexion came into view, his second hand ticking nervously. "Dinner is ready, Sir. You may join our Master in the –"

"I'm not going."

Zexion blinked, "You what?"

Demyx didn't turn around to look at the clock. "I'm not going to dinner."

…………………..

There was a frantic tinkling as Zexion ran down the tiled floors to his Master's room, his cogs and gears rolling together mechanically. He was out of breath once he found the doorway.

"Where is he?" Marluxia asked without turning away from the rain-streaked window.

Zexion's pendulum swung on the spot. He wrung his little nubs he figured were supposed to be hands. "Well, you see…that's what I came to tell you, Master. Uhm…there may be a little dilemma, a sort of…_obstacle_ I guess, and – " the clock stopped himself and shook his head, " – he's not coming."

Marluxia's "_WHAT_!?" echoed throughout the castle, rattling the suits of armor against the wall and the many metallic parts within Zexion. He threw open his door, stormed down the hallway, and found the wooden door that was Demyx's, bringing his fist down upon it three times. "You were supposed to join me for dinner!"

"I'm not hungry!" Demyx cried insolently back at him. Marluxia growled.

"Manners!" Zexion whispered in a rasped voice, "_Manners_!"

"How can I have _manners_…" the Prince began, "When he's being so _difficult_?"

The collected clock, teapot, and teacup all shrugged with their eyes.

"It would give me great pleasure…" Marluxia grumbled through his teeth into the keyhole, "if you would join me tonight for dinner – " Zexion glared at him, " – _si vouz plait_?"

"That's very nice of you, but I'm still not going!"

"_Fine_!" Marluxia bellowed, "Then go ahead and _starve_!" Whipping up his cape, he stormed directly back to his room faster than usual, his servants staring off at him as his cape billowed in his wake.

When he closed the door behind him, he secretly wiped the tears from his eyes. He groped around on his nightstand for his handheld mirror, glancing at his own reflection before ordering it in a small whisper, "Show me the boy."

His reflection swirled out of view in a spectrum of colors, washing into a view of Demyx's room, Lexaeus speaking to him in a careful tone. Their voices sounded as if they were coming through a tunnel.

"He really isn't that bad, you know…" Lexaeus said soothingly, attempting to sit his hulking form next to Demyx on the bed with little success, "…once you get to know him."

"I don't want to get to know him…" Demyx whined through his own tears, "I don't want to have anything to _do_ with him!"

Marluxia bit his lip, a quivering sigh escaping his lips as he set the mirror face down on the nightstand. Here it was – his last shred of hope and he was letting it pass him. The rose floated ominously in its case, wilting by the second in the slightly distant West Wing. Marluxia felt a part of his soul break off and flutter to the ground, just as the next petal of the rose had in that instant.


	8. Be Our Guest

A long, echoing creak reverberated off the walls of the hallway. Demyx peeked a teal eyes out at the gray darkness. One he decided that the coast was clear, he pushed open the door completely, smiling thankfully at his wardrobe's "Be careful." The door closed behind him and he was free to roam the hallway, the rooms, the entire _castle_, studying the statues, the paintings, the suits of armor that seemed to follow him with invisible eyes. He shivered, bringing his hands closer to his chest.

"Holy shit!" Axel shouted from afar as Demyx descended the large staircase toward the foyer, "He's _emerged_!"

"I'm not _blind_," Zexion answered grumpily, rubbing a spot beside his face where an ear was supposed to be, adding quietly, "or deaf."

"Axel?" Demyx asked, padding toward the luminous candle. Axel immediately straightened himself up at the young man's approach. "Yeeessss?" Zexion groaned.

"Hi." Demyx greeted with a small smile. Zexion facepalmed.

"You shouldn't be out," the clock informed the crouching musician, "What if he finds you?"

"He _told _me that I'm allowed to go anywhere in the castle except the West Wing." Demyx said with some sort of uncertain dignity

"He's not exactly in the best of moods at the moment, though," Zexion hastily responded, "It doesn't matter _what _he said – he'll hurt you the first chance he gets."

"He's already hurt me enough already." Demyx sighed forlornly, "I don't care. He can't hurt me anymore."

The clock and candle exchanged lip-biting expressions. Zexion uttered quietly, "I think we'd better head back to the kitchen and help clean u—"

There was a low rumble and Demyx clenched at his stomach, embarrassed. Axel made a loud, "_Ah!_" noise, pointing at the vocal stomach with his right flame, his mouth forming an _o_. "Hear that Zexy? _Hear that!?_ He's hungry!"

"Eheh…" Demyx smiled guiltily, "I guess I am pretty hungry."

"Let's hurry to the kitchen before all the food is put up then." Zexion announced with a small smile, spinning around.

The kitchen was plainer than Demyx had imagined. Very large, but plain. He expected a table already dressed with extravagant foods, but instead he was given an empty, slightly wrinkled tablecloth. He would've asked where the food was if wanted to be rude, but he kept his composure with effort.

"Ma chere monsieur," Axel began, clinking toward the base of the lonely chair behind the table, "it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight." He made an extravagant, well-rehearsed bow, his flames dancing, "And now, we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair – " he carefully pulled the chair back without burning it, Demyx sitting on it hesitantly, " – as the dining room proudly presents…"

The lights went down and the only visible lights in the room were the three that Axel bore as he climbed onto the table and a spotlight shown on an assortment of different dishes adorned with different arrangements of food, the dishes clinking in anticipation, " – your dinner."

Zexion snorted audibly and Axel threw him a nasty glare as the whole of the lights came slowly back on. Demyx dismissed their bickering, in awe of the food as it danced across the table, sending sweet smells and sights under his nose. Soup du jour, hot hors d'oeurves…

"Try the gray stuff," a small voice piped up, and Demyx noticed then that his teacup was the chipped China, Sora. He beamed up at him, completely sober this time as he informed him, "It's delicious!"

Demyx dipped a finger in a the little nook of gray fluff, trying as he was told, and…it _was _delicious. It didn't look so good, but for some reason the flavor was explosive and scrumptious. Zexion climbed up on his lap to give him a menu, which Demyx opened gratefully. Still, he was amazed – beef ragout, cheese soufflé, pie and pudding!

"Where does Marluxia get the _money_ for all this?"

Zexion shrugged, "He _is _a prince."

"Where's the king then?"

"We're still trying to figure that out." Axel intervened as Demy ordered bread and soup as an entrée.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" Zexion whispered at Axel as the candle holder stowed away the menu, "The Master could come in any moment!"

"Like the kid said, he _told _him he's allowed to go anywhere!"

"_Except _the West Wing."

"Except the West Wing." Axel adjusted his candles on his hips and looked around obviously. "Does this look like the West Wing to you? Besides, the kid's lonely and scared. He could use a little lightening up, y'know?"

"'_Lightening up_', huh?" Zexion tutted, crossing his arms.

"Sure. Want me to do tricks with my candlesticks for him?"

"Tricks?" Demyx asked, overhearing the conversation as his delivery of bread and soup was set in front of him.

"Nah, I was just kidding…" Axel announced, "Besides, I don't want to burn anyone. Except maybe Zexy…"

Zexion cried out a squeal of pain, leaping up as if a fire was lit under his ass – which was exactly the case Demyx broke into fits of laughter as he was delivered forks and knives and a plate of veal, another of pork.

"'Ello, Lovey!" Demyx looked up hopefully to see the familiar teapot bouncing toward him across the long stretch of table. "Care for some wine?"

"Oh…" the boy hesitated, "I guess just this once."

Luxord tipped his head just a bit into Demyx's golden glass. "Wine is poured. Would you like tea with your dessert, Love?"

"Yes, of course," Demyx laughed, "But after I'm done with my meal, okay?"

"Right," Luxord nodded with a smile, "I'll be back then."

"It's nice to finally be serving someone, don't you think, Zexy?"

Zexion looked quizzically at the fiery being. He wasn't usually the one to be excited about _working_. "I suppose…"

"The kid finally looks at home and happy. Though it might be the wine Luxord gave him…that stuff is strong."

"Tell me about it."

Demyx ate until he was fit to burst, but still accepted his desert and smiled when Luxord came plopping up to pour his tea. "Is it one lump or two?"

"It's three." Demyx giggled. Luxord raised his eyebrows and nudged the spoon to add a second, then third lump of sugar to the small cup of tea that was Sora.

"Bravo!" he ended up saying after his strawberry cheesecake was dominated, "Encore, encore! That was the best meal I've ever had in my life!"

"There's more if you like." Axel stated. Demyx looked down at the candle and clock and laughed, rubbing his bulging stomach.

"No thanks…I'm stuffed. Thank you though. I think I'll head back to bed. Thank you!"

"Anytime, kiddo," Axel waved as the boy closed the door behind him. "See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Zexion shook his head. "What concerns me is why the Master would even schedule dinner at midnight."

Axel shrugged. "He's never had a good sense of time, that Marluxia."


	9. The West Wing

Demyx lied. Or rather, forgot that he said he was going to head back to bed. Or maybe he just got lost and then forgot. Either way, he didn't go back to bed. He took a wrong turn on the way back to his room and found himself traveling a symmetrical hallway to the one his room was located in. He looked about himself in the candlelit hallway warily.

"Geez..." the boy moaned to himself, "Of all the places, I get lost in an enchanted castle."

"Who told you the castle was enchanted?"

Demyx jumped at the voice, spinning around to face a wide staircase. His eyes traveled up the left railing and landed on a poised feather duster with vivid blue eyes at the top of the handle along with swirly spikes that imitated hair. He wondered who on Earth would use a household item that lethal. He laughed as the feather duster inched toward him.

"I kinda figured that out for myself." In a light cloud of dust, the duster met the red carpeted stairs and hopped down them one by one, looking up at Demyx curiously. "Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Roxas," the duster replied, "and...who're you?"

"I'm Demyx."

A look of understanding dawned on Roxas's face. Demyx looked up from him and at the staircase, laying one foot on the first step. Roxas hurried forward, attempting to block his way.

"What's up there?" Demyx asked slyly.

"Nothing!" Roxas sputtered, "Nothing, absolutely nothing, the Master keeps absolutely nothing in the West Wing, eheh..."

"Ohhhh, so _that's _the West Wing..." Demyx grinned, stepping over the small household item. "What's he hiding up there?"

"_Nothing!" _Roxas squeaked, "Like I said, nothing. Nothing but dust, yes, _dust_. It's absolutely _filthy _up there."

"Then it wouldn't be forbidden, would it?" Demyx continued, climbing the stairs even more.

"Please don't go!" the blue-eyed duster cried, "The Master -- h-he'll _kill _me -- _all of us_ -- if he finds out!"

"He won't find out," Demyx said with a sly smile, climbing the last bit of stairs, "I'll be sneaky. Don't worry."

The feather duster sighed, hanging his head as Demyx escaped into the hall. This wasn't going to end well, he just knew it...

Roxas wasn't lying -- the West Wing _was _dusty. And dark. The only light seemed to come from the inner chamber, a pale, pinkish-red glow. Demyx stared past the cobwebs and gargoyles into said chamber, trying to catch a glimpse of this source of beautiful light. It hit everything so soft, whispering against the murky dust bits floating lazily by, giving them an ethereal beauty as he reached the room, and saw it -- the Rose.

It was under a glass case, pulsing feebly as if imitating a heartbeat. The curious boy bit his lip, careful to keep his footfalls quiet as he scooted over to the spindly table, eyeing the beautiful plant. Its own petals decorated the bottom of the casing, shriveled and dead. Demyx cocked his head, wondering where the vase was to this plant, when he gasped -- _the rose was floating in midair_.

He had to get to the bottom of this. Careful not to let the glass clink on the table, he touched his hands to the transparent material and lifted it from the rose, setting it quietly onto the stone floor. Still eyeing the flower, he reached out a single finger to touch its full-looking petals, his eyes widening in the red light, when a blow pushed fiercely against his chest and he fell backward on his elbows, the clinking of glass over the rose heard as he looked up. Marluxia was glaring daggers down at him, his back hunched.

"_Do you realize what you could have done?_" he whispered fiercely.

"I-I was only--!"

"_I told you the West Wing was __**FORBIDDEN!**_"

Demyx screamed in surprise as small tendrils flew out from somewhere around Marluxia's wrist, wrapping around his neck and tightening with a cruel bite. Thorns...there were thorns...were they..._rose_ _vines_?

"You disobeyed me, _mon chou petite_..." the clacking of his footsteps filled the chamber as he slowly advanced on his prey, cool blue eyes scanning that pretty, bleeding neck. Demyx could feel his hot breath on the cuts then. "Disobedience merits a punishment."

The vines' grip loosened, Demyx taking in a breath that stung as he neck stretched the wounds. "P-please, Marluxia, I was only --"

"You will _call _me..." Demyx squealed, tears pooling in his eyes as he fell to to floor, Marluxia's nose a millimeter from his, "..._Master_."

The vines unraveled from his neck and wrapped around his wrists in a trice, Marluxia's hair brushing away from his ears as he sat up, looking down at the boy as he casually unbuttoned and pulled down his pants and undergarments.

_Cold..._

"Spread your legs."

"_Never_..." Demyx whispered behind gritted teeth, tears streaming down the sides of his face.

More vines emerged, squeezing around his ankles and pulling his legs apart. The boy cried out as Marluxia looked down at him with a face of apathy, his head slightly cocked before he smiled. He took two fingers and tapped them against Demyx's barred teeth, but the boy made to bite those fingers. Marluxia's eyes narrowed as he pulled his hand away.

"The only other lubrication I have, _mon chou_, is blood."

Demyx's eyes widened, the pupils narrowing, as Marluxia brought his fingertip to the bleeding neck. He brought the red-tipped fingers to his nose, whispering, "_Not enough..._"

More vines, this time clawing at Demyx through his inner walls. He felt as if he were ripping apart simultaneously with the strained vocal cords. Hot blood seeped out of his opening, fast and flowing with his pounding heartbeat as the scraping vines receded and the pulsing member of Marluxia pushed itself in as easily as butter, stretching the multitude of internal gashes as he traveled slowly down to his prostate, slamming into it. Demyx's lip was bleeding from how hard he was biting it to suppress his cries for mercy.

The beats quickened, the pain began to numb, and the Master began to slow down, pulling out with a look of small dawning on him as he buttoned his pants again, concealing the blood-covered length. He pulled Demyx's pants back up, in turn pulling him up by the hand. The boy cringed obviously, hardly able to stand with his shaking legs. Marluxia came within two inches from his teal eyes.

"_Get out._"

Demyx didn't hesitate. He stormed down the stairs, tripped on the last step, and scrambled back up, his footsteps clacking against the floor as he bolted toward the entrance to the castle in the foyer, pushing the doors open and finding Lyric, alert and awake. After several attempts, he hoisted himself onto her back with the help of adrenaline and rode off into the rising, morning sun.


	10. Heartless

"What about the man makes him insane?"

The two, weathered faces hung opposite of each other, aglow from the burnt-orange candlelight between them. Xigbar wasn't wearing his eye patch, the fleshy flaps of skin rolling into his gaping non-existance of a right eye. He always displayed this grotesque feature of his face when wanting to sincerely intimidate his oppressor. Ansem, spidery, gossamer shadows cast on his yellow beard from his fingers neatly touching at the tips, remained unperturbed save for his slowly beating eyelids.

"He said he went into that old castle in the woods," Xigbar whispered, laughing quietly, "and he said he saw a _plant _monster!"

Ansem couldn't help laughing behind a fist. "A _plant _monster? My, my, that sounds like a rather wacky case." He cleared his throat, suddenly looking very grave behind his fingers. "What will the payment be?"

Xigbar grunted as he heaved a burlap sack onto the table, which creaked when the weight was added to it. Ansem studied the sack, pulling it open and revolving a shining, gold piece in the orange light.

"Marvelous..." he uttered, "this man is now a homicidal killer -- I'll convince the court _that _much..."

....................................

Demyx felt his torrent of tears nearly freeze on his cheeks as he made it out the grand doors. He found Lyric waiting for him just outside, looking scared and alert as if she sensed his sorrow. _Sorrow? _ No, that didn't _nearly _describe the anguish and turmoil raging inside the boy's heart. Not even the thrashing of the vines inside him just moments before could make as much destruction as his heart was bearing.

The small gash in his bottom lip stung as he spoke in a quivering coo to his horse. "I-I promised to stay here, Lyric," he pet her snout softly, "but promise or not, I'm getting out of here."

He mounted her after a few pained attempts, shivering as the newly made snowflakes began to fall, dancing viciously across his face.

As Lyric galloped on, the snow began to evolve into a sheet of white on the ground, and Demyx knew it was a blizzard -- a terrible blizzard. He shivered and sniffed, squinting through the white.

It was when the white opened up to black pits that he began to worry. The wind and snow seemed to stop completely.

Lyric screamed a horrible whinny muffled by the storm, pulling back on her hind legs and kicking her front. Demyx cried out, falling backward off his horse and into the biting snow. He felt something grasp his arm and spun around to come face-to-face with a black abyss with glowing, yellow eyes and strange antennae that tickled his face. He spun back around when another grabbed his thigh, crawling slowly up his leg, its deadly gaze direct and unblinking. A million golden orbs stared upon Demyx, transfixed by the boy's appetizing flesh -- ants gathering around their food as their antennae skimmed over his face and under his clothes.

Demyx didn't dare take a breath as these creatures studied him, caressing and prodding with wispy claws. He was hypnotized in fear as he heard his horse gallop away from him, saving her own hide before his. He screamed once their dark, pudgy forms began to envelope his world and he couldn't see a thing, when he thought he heard his name yelled, muffled through the bodies.

The boy kicked and punched the mysterious creatures away, them squealing and screeching with each pummel. _Where'd that voice come from?_ He tried to stand up, but they pulled him viciously back down.

"_Demyx!_"

There was a loud _shing _and a tangent of the monsters erupted into smoke. Demyx looked up into the dizzying sky, watching as pink, sparkling hearts disintegrated into it. A hand blocked this show and he grabbed it, pulling himself up. His face dropped at the sight of his savior's blue-eyed, pink-haired...

"Are you okay?" Marluxia asked. Demyx would've scowled and rudely proclaimed, "Of course I am. You only raped me with thorny vines and made me feel the most unimaginable pain I've ever felt and locked me in my castle after you tortured my uncle. No harm done." But all he could do was scowl as the demons advanced.

Marluxia had a weapon -- a large scythe that even towered over _him_. It was beautiful and deadly, and its color easily resembled its master's hair. He made a great swing with it toward the mass of black, more pink hearts ascending.

"_What are they?_" Demyx exclaimed through their chatter. Marluxia backed off yet another wave of them with a shine of his sickle before answering, "Heartless -- their part of the Curse. If you try to leave the castle when it's your home, they take your heart."

"But..." Demyx whispered to himself, unwillingly hiding behind the stronger man, "...it's not my home."

The Prince's attention was wavered for half a second as he looked back at Demyx from over his shoulder, his blue eyes showing a hint of shocked sadness, when he hollered out. A Heartless leapt onto his chest, poised above his beating heart. He pulled the pest off after a short struggle, sliced it through weakly, and panted, holding his bleeding chest tenderly.

"Demyx..." he mumbled falling to his knees. Demyx fell with him, trying to see if his wound was fatal or not, trying to decided whether or not it was a time to celebrate for his rapist's possible death as the dark creatures continued to creep. Marluxia made a side-glance toward him, obviously trying to find the right words to say before losing consciousness. "I'm sorry..."

He slumped forward into the snow. _That's it?_ Demyx couldn't help but think the words. That's all he has to say? The Heartless hissed and snapped, the boy pulling back to the present as he took up the graceful scythe. It was light as a feather despite its height almost doubled of what Demyx's was. He carefully padded through the snow up to them, unconsciously wary of the location of Marluxia's sleeping form, and spun like a whirlwind toward them. A great multitude of the beasts popped and faded into the sky, but they just kept on coming. Running without a horse would be ridiculous, but Demyx started. Maybe...maybe it was his only chance.

He whistled with his finger and thumb in his teeth. Lyric always answered to that call. Hopefully she was just skulking behind the trees a small way away...and she wouldn't be too much of a coward.

He made another swing of the sickle, simultaneously whistling with his other hand. Come on, Lyric, come on...

There was a terrible whinny and Demyx looked up. Lyric sounded rather strange..._if _that was her. Huskier than usual. A massive horse burst through the trees, a trail of black smoke following her, her black coat even darker than usual compared to her lamp-like eyes. The boy saw the opening in her chest and knew -- she was changing. She was becoming one of _them_. But she was his only hope.

He couldn't think. He looked back at Marluxia, watching his chest heave feebly as he was possibly struggling for his own life. He squinted his eyes determinedly, fit the feathery scythe underneath the strap he usually used for his blessed sitar, and heaved up the Prince's body onto the saddle. He climbed up with effort behind him, feeling guilty once he felt the soreness again inside him as he kicked the changing Lyric's sides.

They raced to the castle with inhuman speed, the world swallowing in darkness behind them and the horse beneath them quickly becoming smokier, sleeker. her snout began to shorten and her ears became taller, her hooves turning into claws.

"C'mon, Lyric, stay with us!"

The horse swiftly shrank as they were seconds away from the doors. They were wide open. The moment Lyric was completely transformed, the two of them stumbled unceremoniously into the foyer, Lyric the Heartless sinking into the darkness as the ground doors closed in front of her.


	11. Startover

There was something beautiful about the sorrow in Demyx's face as he carefully unbuttoned the Prince's coat, said Prince silently sleeping on the sofa. The boy's eyes glistened, the rolling tears softened his skin, and he glowed in the fire of the fireplace's light. He unbuttoned the blood-stained shirt underneath the coat with a sniff, observing the open wound.

_Is there even anything to steal...?_

The unconscious man flinched faintly as Demyx flattened his hand on the messy gash ginerly, feeling the struggling beat beneath his palm. His frown slightly deepened. He wasn't _completely _heartless then...

"Kid," Demyx spun around at the sound of the voice and clinking metal, watching as Axel hopped toward him, a blue tasseled footstool carrying a wooden bucket to him on its back behind the candle, "we got the water."

A forced, thankful smile appeared as a ghost on Demyx's lips as he heaved the bucket off the stool, petting the labored back. The footstool licked him with a silky tassel. Axel chuckled as Demyx ringed the rag above the steaming water.

"His name's Saix." He told him, "He's a dog, obviously. Not exactly sure what _kind _of dog, but the kind that also works as a foot--"

"Haah!"

Demyx squealed when Marluxia came to, grasping his hand that had been tending his wound and throwing it aside. He sat himself up, cringed, then put a hand to his chest. "What're you doing!?"

The boy cocked his head to the side, pouting slightly with his watery eyes. A pang of guilt surged through the Prince. "I'm cleaning your wound." He moved the hot rag back toward the bloody mess. Marluxia made to recoil, but removed his hand and let the rag touch again, but he again howled in pain.

"_That hurts_!"

"It wouldn't hurt if you weren't moving so much!" Demyx growled, trying the man by jamming the rag into his chest. The pink-haired Master bit his lip.

"If you wouldn't have run away, this wouldn't have happened..." he murmured.

"If you wouldn't have..." Demyx trailed off from his angry tone, then sniffed and continued weakly, "I wouldn't have run away..."

"I wouldn't have _touched _you --" the Prince articulated, pushing Demyx's wrist away as he tried to purge the wound, "If you would've _listened _and stayed out of the West Wing!"

"Well maybe you should learn how to control yourself!" Tears were running in streams down Demyx's cheeks as he tenderly pulled the bloodstained flap of Marluxia's shirt away, sniveling. His hand was trembling. "Hold _still."_

Marluxia bit his lip as the boy dabbed at the wound, as the boy's salty tears moisoned his cheeks. _The vines stung more...and they didn't help tend a wound. _He had no right to cringe like that. He even had the gall to whimper almost inaudibly, "_It hurts_..."

Demyx slapped the rag across his chest, the Prince wailing in pain. The boy glared flaming Excaliburs through his lakes of eyes at the man, his shoulders hunched. "You don't even know the _meaning _of hurt! You have no idea what it feels like to never see your sick and tortured uncle ever again, to be trapped here, to finally think you're at home here and then get --"

There was a sharp intake of breath as fiery tears burned his visage. He got on his feet, whimpered as he looked around at the candle holder, footstool, clock, teapot, feather duster, and teacup that all gathered around to watch. Tears leaked even more rapid from his eyes, peppering the wooden floor before he stormed of to his room in a tornado of anguish.

Silence. All silence save for the minute ticking of Zexion's second hand. Eyes turned onto Marluxia, all of them in sequence, Sora being last.

"You didn't." Axel whispered disbelievingly.

Marluxia swallowed. "I did."

There was a collection of gasps and clinking and creaking of wooden legs before Luxord the teapot scowled up, puffing his pudgy form. "Master! Do you really intend to break the spell doing things like raping your only chance left?"

"The rose is wilting faster than we can keep up with." Zexion said in his icy growl, "If you keep performing such lustful acts with such little time left in our grasp, we'll be so far behind that by the time it dies completely out...!"

"We'll replace all the dishes..." Sora moaned, staring at the ground.

"And lighting!"

"And clocks."

"Cleaning supplies!"

Saix barked and growled discontentedly, lowering his head with his tasseled tail between his stubby legs.

"How can I be forced to love someone!?" Marluxia lashed out, holding the rag to his chest. "Him being my only chance left doesn't make him more lovable."

The servants exchanged nervous glances. He was right.

"I hardly know what love is...how I can I...love _him_?"

"Get him to love you first," Zexion suggested bravely, "Maybe, just maybe, if you can gain his admiration, maybe you'll find that you love him back."

"I can never have him love me..." Marluxia mumbled to himself, "I defiled him, I hurt him..."

"What's that on your chest then?" Luxord asked curiously.

Marluxia blinked, looking down and lifting the rag from the pinkish-red gash. "I went to save him from the Heartless. It was a way of saying that I was sorry."

"What were you thinking," Roxas the duster began, "...were you thinking, 'I'd better save him or I'll turn into a rose', or 'I'd better save him -- "

" -- so I can apologize." Marluxia finished for him, staring at the ground, glassy-eyed, "So _he _won't turn into a Heartless..."

Axel smiled warmly. "That's a good start!" He put a candlestick around the feather duster and everyone took that as a good time to leave. Axel looked back to correct himself. "Well...start_over_."

The rhythmic clinking and clacking died out and Marluxia hung his head, lost in aphasia.

* * *

"Why didn't you just leave him in the _snow_!?"

Demyx paced back and forth in front of Lexaeus the wardrobe, twining his hair in his fingers, his eyes glistening with still more tears. The wardrobe watched his motions keenly.

"I couldn't just _leave _him there, Lexy!" he sobbed, sitting on the bed, his toes facing each other and his elbows resting on his thighs. "He...he saved me. If he hadn't been there, I would be one of them right now!"

"One of what?"

"Those..._things_! Those Heartless!" Demyx held his elbow insecurely as he attempted to control his breathing, pausing in deep thought. "That's why I came back. I_ have _to stay...I owe him my...my humanity."

"Wouldn't you say you gave it to him in the West Wing?"

A small tear rolled down the boy's cheek in the quiet. "Then we're back where we started. And I gave him my word..." He shook his head, his palm planted over his eyes. "I just wish...I just wish I could see my uncle again. Just so I can feel at home again...just so..."

He dropped his head, at a loss for words. Lexaeus sighed. He thought, he really thought, that for a moment, the boy would love the man and he would wear clothes on the outside again...rather than the inside. His hopes diminished quickly at the sound of Demyx's last snivel before he curled onto his side and drifted off into his dream world.


End file.
